


Morty Miracles Daycare

by LouPF



Series: Sweet Lullaby [4]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: A-110 Rick deserves ALL the love, Age Play, Babysitters, C-137 is implied to be little, Caring Rick, Doofus Rick doesn't make an actual appearance, Established Relationship, Exploration, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, Not Beta Read, Oneshot, Soft Rick, The Citadel, but like now there's like 20 of them, duh - Freeform, for C-106 anyway, little!Morty, this became softer than intended. whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:27:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24909910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouPF/pseuds/LouPF
Summary: When Morty admits to Rick that he's been feeling a bit lonely in his age regression, Rick takes him to Morty Miracles Daycare, a place for littles and caregivers to unwind on the Citadel. During one of their visits, C-137 Rick drops his Morty off without looking back. C-106 Morty decides to take him under his wing.
Relationships: Morty Smith & Morty Smith, Rick Sanchez & Morty Smith, Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith
Series: Sweet Lullaby [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1785499
Comments: 9
Kudos: 99
Collections: rickmorty fics





	Morty Miracles Daycare

Between the little mall, various online communities, and Rick's attention, Morty rarely feels lonely. There are age regressors of all kinds that he can talk to. It isn't that. It's just that... even if he hadn't managed to stumble into a romantic relationship with his  _ grandfather _ of all things, it doesn't change the fact that his caregiver was still, you know. His  _ grandfather.  _ The huge age gap and also incest makes it hard to be accepted in a lot of Earthly communities, even if he doesn't mention that they're dating.

He just... okay, so he kind of misses having someone relate to him. It's just that.

When he offhandedly mentions that to Rick, Rick scratches at his chin before announcing that they're visiting the Citadel. That's how they end up visiting _ Morty Miracles Daycare _ for the first time.

Morty  _ loves it.  _ Even though the littles - ninety-nine percent of them being Mortys - outnumber the caregivers - ninety-nine percent of them being Ricks - four to one, it's a great place to unwind and relax. The workers are kind and gentle. Babysitters, they call themselves, and they're happy to help even if any given little has a caregiver with them.

Rick seems to like it, too, if his eagerness to go back is anything to go by. They talk about it, and Morty confesses that he'd rather not be there alone - he can, if it's an emergency, but would prefer if Rick was there with him. Rick agrees; he doesn't want to leave little Morty out of sight.

_ Damn it _ , Morty thinks to himself when he hears that.  _ I really, really love this guy. _

And that's how they end up going back quite a few times. 

It's on the sixth visit the routine of  _ Miracles  _ changes.

It started out just like normal - Morty kissed Rick's cheek and went off to relax with a Morty he'd met last time, J-67. J-67 was a regular - far more so than Morty himself, as J-67 didn't have a very supportive Rick. They'd made almost immediate friends.

It was while they were curled up on a huge soft pillow that a portal whooshed to life in the middle of the room, disturbing a few playing Mortys and grabbing nearly everyone's attention.

"Hey!" one of the babysitters called as a fairly normal-looking Rick stepped through, followed by an uncertain Morty. "No portals in here!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," said the Rick, flapping his hand dismissively. "H - here you go, Morty, only place I don't d - detest in this shit hole." Several gasps around the room; a few Mortys covered each other's ears, scandalized. "Morty daycare. For age regressors, yeah, but - but, still, y'know, daycare. Have fun."

The Morty turned wide, horrified eyes to his Rick. "But - Rick! Y - I'm not - you can't -"

Rick could.

The Morty stood alone in the middle of the room, looking incredibly lost. When he looked around, he flushed bright red - most likely at finding the attention of everyone focused at himself.

Some Mortys looked away. It wasn't the first time a Rick just left his Morty here.

"I - I - I'm sorry," the Morty blurted, backing off towards the door towards the entry room. "I'll just - I, uhm, I'll go."

A babysitter Rick - the same that had yelled at the intruding Rick - hurried forward. "No, no," he said, kneeling before the shaking Morty. "It's okay, sweetie, you - you're safe here."

The Morty blushed, likely at the nickname. Most Mortys did that the first few times before the embarrassment became pride. "It, I, it's just - aw, jeez, I just, I feel kinda out of place, you know, I'm not..." He gestured around the room, not meeting anyone's gaze. "This," he finished meekly.

"That's okay," the babysitter Rick comforted. "No one's - no one's gonna make you do anything. You can stay until your Rick comes back." He pulled a dimension bracelet out of his pocket, along with a pen. "Here, darling, what dimension are you from?"

"C - uh, C-137," the Morty stuttered. A moment later, he had the bracelet around his wrist. It was purple, colour code for "just visiting."

Morty of C-106 was immediately more interested. It wasn't often he met anyone from C dimensions; they tended to stay away from the Citadel the higher value they had (C-106, for example, only ever visited  _ Miracles  _ or Rick-specific shops).

Glancing around and noting that nobody else seemed to be much interested in the newcomer, Morty spat out his pacifier and wriggled out from beneath J-67's arm. He approached C-137 in full view, shaking off the last strings of littlespace as he neared.

(He felt the gaze of his Rick following his movements but heard nothing, so C-137 was probably safe.)

"H - hey," Morty greeted, holding out his hand. "C-106."

C-137 seemed relieved as he shook Morty's hand. "Th - thanks. What - what exactly is this place?"

Morty pulled a face. "Your Rick didn't tell you?" When C-137 only shrugged, Morty guided him towards one of the sitting areas. He plopped down in one of the armchairs, grabbing the nearest plushie and folding around it on instinct.

C-137 was a bit more uncertain when he sat. "I - I know what age... age regression is," he said, gaze flickering around the room. "I just... don't understand..."

"I'll give you a rundown?" Morty suggested, squeezing tight around the plushie. C-137 nodded. "W - well, first of all, we're age regressing Mortys who g - get taken care of by caregiver Ricks." He added, with a little chuckle, "we - we outnumber the Ricks f - four to one." 

"Why Ricks?" C-137 asked, glancing around the room. Morty followed his glance to the seven Ricks scattered around the room, most of them chatting quietly to each other, some entertaining Mortys on the floor. One - Morty recognized him as A-110 - had three Mortys spread across his lap and chest while he read from a book.

Morty shrugged. "H - honestly, I - I don't know. He's - he's comforting."

"And a - are everyone - is - do you come in pairs?"

He shook his head. "Most of us M - Mortys are here alone. Some of the Ricks are without Mortys. The babysitters?" Morty pointed to one of the said babysitters, currently rocking a pouting Morty while talking to another Rick. "Th - they work here. Love what they do. And the - the Rick over there, on the floor?" He pointed to A-110, covered in Mortys. "He - his Morty's n - not interested, so he spends some time here to relax. The "Rickless" Mortys like the attention."

C-137 nodded, appearing a bit more comfortable with the whole deal. "And, uh, how about th - those Ricks?"

Following his finger, Morty's gaze landed on the four Ricks lounging over by the windows, three of them locked in quiet discussion. Morty's Rick was at the centre of it, nearly glowing with interest, and he felt his heart warm. "Caregivers," he said. "Th - they're here with their Mortys, but, uh, not interacting for - for various reasons."

"It sounds nice," C-137 admitted, poking a bit at his bracelet. "Y - y'know, it's - you don't look the same, any of you."

"Hm?" Morty looked down at himself, then at the others. He giggled. "Oh, yeah, the clothes. N - nah, we - jeans aren't good on littles. We like different things."

"Right," said C-137. "Wh - what do the bracelets mean?" He held up his own wrist, black ink on purple plastic.

Morty held up his own wrist: black ink on blue plastic, with thinner bands of other colours beneath. Pink, yellow, and magenta. "The codes are mandatory, they're - they're for Ricks who leave their Mortys here. You're j - just visiting, so you're purple. I'm a little, so I'm blue. The, uh, the pink means I'm a-okay with being touched, yellow means I'm shy - there's, uh, different "personalities" - and magenta is non-verbal."

C-137, who'd leaned forward to inspect Morty's bracelet, gave him a curious look. "You don't s - seem very shy," he said, adding, "or non-verbal," almost as an afterthought.

"Oh, w - well, I'm big now," said Morty. "I w - wanted to help you settle in."

"You control it?"

Morty wobbled his hand back and forth. "Eh, k - kinda? Sometimes. Today's a - a good day."

"Oh," said C-137. "Is - is your Rick here?"

At the mention of Rick, Morty beamed, kicking his feet a little. "Mhm! He's right over there." He pointed to the Ricks by the lounge.

"He's your...?"

"Caregiver, yeah." Morty curbed his eagerness a little bit, willing himself to stay calm for poor C-137's sake. "He's - he's very sweet."

C-137 shook his head. "I can't - can't really imagine a  _ sweet  _ Rick." He paused, then snickered. "Maybe Doofus Rick."

"He's a regular!" Morty said. "C - comes by often. We love him. B - but, 137, these Ricks really are v - very sweet."

Sighing forlornly, C-137 looked away, resting his chin in his palm. "M - maybe to littles," he muttered sourly.

Morty frowned and bit his lip thoughtfully. He didn't like seeing other Mortys in pain. "Do you - do you wanna try?"

"Wh - what?? H - how? I mean - I - I don't know where to even  _ start _ !"

Holding up his own pacifier, Morty wiggled it a little. "Binkys are a - a good place to begin."

C-137 looked at the pacifier like he had a biting kink and the pacifier very sharp teeth. "But I - I don't have any..." When Morty pointed to the vending machine in the corner, C-137's expression turned just a smidgen more mournful. "Or any money," he added sadly.

"That's okay!" Morty said, before turning in his chair and exclaiming, "papa!"

All four of the lounging Ricks turned to look, as did two babysitters and A-110 Rick. When they saw who'd called, however, only  _ his  _ Rick kept looking. Seeing he had his attention, Morty winked at C-137 and sprinted across the floor, side-stepping a Morty who was putting together a mock-portal gun. Morty leaned into Rick's side, thrilled when Rick absentmindedly put an arm around his shoulders. "The - the new Morty wants to try a binky," Morty said, "but he doesn't have any money."

"Oh, is that so?" Rick hummed, grinning down at him. "And - and I suppose you're gonna pay, huh, baby?"

Morty pouted. "Papa..."

The other Ricks chuckled. One of them reached out to pet Morty's hair; he leaned into the touch without a second thought. "Just give the kid what he wants," he said. "He's not - he isn't gonna stop."

His Rick rolled his eyes and tugged playfully at Morty's hair. "I was - I had it under control. Was just gonna toy a bit with him." He kissed Morty's curls, then fished his wallet out of a pocket. "Sure. Show him - show him what Miracles has to offer."

"Thank!" said Morty, and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of Rick's mouth. When he pulled back, he was pleased to find him blushing.

And then he ran off with his wallet like the imp he was.

C-137 was staring, wide-eyed. "H - how did - you got his  _ wallet -  _ you kissed - I -  _ what  _ \- "

Morty wagged his finger at him with a smug grin. "Nu-uh, no judging here. Against the rules." He dragged poor C-137 towards the vending machine, stacked full with pacifiers of various colours and designs. "Okayyy, so, which - what colour?"

C-137 looked up at the display, paling slightly. "U - uhm..." He scratched his neck. "Bl... blue? Like - like yours?"

How exciting! "With stars?" Morty asked, his speech slurring a bit as littlespace crept upon him.

"Mmm... yes?"

Morty slid his own pacifier into his mouth, suckling lightly on the nipple as he tapped in the numbers for the star-speckled paci. When it popped out of the machine, he handed it to C-137 with a flourish, hoping his eager expression could say what his words could not: how desperately he wanted C-137 to enjoy this.

C-137 took it, hesitantly. "A - are you... did you just go - uhm, little?"

Unable to stop the blush, Morty had to look away for a moment before nodding. It was always a bit awkward when he couldn't quite stop it, but - well, he was at  _ Miracles _ , what else was he supposed to do?

"Oh," said C-137. With another look at the Ricks in the room, he cautiously put the pacifier in his mouth.

His eyes widened, and he let out a little squeak.

Morty clasped his hands together and bounced a little on his toes; that was good, right? That was a good reaction?

Oh, he had to give back papa's wallet! Grabbing C-137's wrist, he gently tugged towards the Ricks. C-137 didn't put up any fight, only following him meekly, hiding halfway behind him when he presented the wallet to its owner.

Rick -  _ his  _ Rick - chuckled, taking the wallet with a smile. "S - such a good boy," he muttered. When Morty beamed and stood up on his tippy toes to nuzzle his neck, he added, "my good little boy," in a quiet hush.

God, this was the best feeling in the whole wide world.

C-137 tugged at Morty's shirt. "M - Morty," he muttered, around the pacifier. Morty slid away from Rick to look at him, curious.

Muted  _ yearning  _ was writ on C-137's face, his gaze flickering from Morty to Morty's Rick and back again.

_ Oh _ , he wanted to - he needed a Rick. Understandable! Most little Mortys longed for that. But, judging by how skittery C-137 still was, he couldn't bear to leave Morty's side. This was still unfamiliar to him...

Morty had an idea.

He glanced over to A-110 Rick on the floor, who was now lazily petting a Morty's hair. After a second, he looked up at his own Rick - asking permission.

Rick smiled gently. "Go ahead."

C-137 was once again pulled across the floor. Morty tugged him down to sit on the carpeted floor next to A-110 Rick's pile of Morty's. A-110 looked up in surprise, confusion clear on his face. "Osyx?" he asked. "Isn't your Rick - "

Morty shook his head with a frown, shifting aside to show C-137, uncertain and suspiciously quiet behind him.

A-110 immediately softened. "Oh, a - a newcomer? Wh - what's your name, baby?"

C-137 went scarlet, stammering some half-muffled sounds.

The soft expression on A-110's face became a knowing smile. "S - shy, huh? Lemme see your wrist, angel." C-137 held out his wrist. "Another C, huh? H - how about, hm..." He seemed to think deeply for a moment before shrugging. "Seven? C - can I call you that, baby?"

If Morty looked closely, there were stars in C-137's eyes. Small ones, yes - terrified and muted by uncertainty, but definitely  _ there.  _ He nodded.

"Thank you, you're - you're such a good boy," A-110 cooed, petting C-137's hand. "C - c'mon, lie down, will you? It's - it's okay, yeah, don't worry."

The three other Mortys glanced up, then silently shuffled around to make space for Morty and C-137. C-137 ended up halfway across A-110's chest, inches away from another Morty in a similar position. Morty himself could rest his head on A-110's shoulder, his arm draped against Morty's back.

And they lay there in silence, A-110's fingers every now and then tracing through Morty's hair, sometimes disappearing off to probably pet C-137. The warmth of Mortys and A-110, though it wasn't  _ Morty's  _ Rick, managed to lull him into dozing off. Judging by how still and quiet - though not tense! - C-137 was, it was the same for him.

Eventually, though, it had to come to an end. It probably took the good end of an hour and a half - though Morty'd always struggled to tell. An impatient-sounding Rick stomped his way into the room, followed by an exasperated babysitter.

"Morty!" the Rick called, to stirrings from every Morty in the room. He grunted, then, painstakingly, as though it cost him everything he had, "Morty Smith from Earth C-137, get y - your ass here, we're going - it's time to gOOURgh."

Morty hissed, sitting up slightly to elbow C-137 in the ribs. "Tha's you," he muttered, prodding at his shoulders.

C-137 startled. He must've been asleep. "H - huh??"

Morty removed his pacifier. "Your 'Ick."

"Oh," said C-137. Then his eyes went wide, and he yanked the pacifier out of his mouth. "O - oh!" he said again, stumbling to his feet. "Y - yes, Rick, I - I'm coming!" He cast a look to Morty, then A-110. "Th - thanks for - "

"C'mon!" said C-137 Rick. "We don't - time isn't my  _ friend _ , Morty!"

The last Morty saw of C-137 Morty was a pained expression as his Rick all but shoved him through the doors.

Standing - and after pecking A-110's cheek as thanks - Morty dragged his way over to his own Rick, ready for some comforting cuddles.

He hoped C-137 would be fine.

*

Back on Earth C-137, Morty sat heavily on his bed. In his palm lay a small piece of plastic which he kept turning over, running his thumb across its surface.

The item was a blue pacifier with stars on it.

He sighed wearily. "Aw jeez."

**Author's Note:**

> So like, I'm ridiculously tempted to write a little story based on the one percent of caregiver Mortys and little Ricks... would anyone be interested in that?


End file.
